


All at Once

by The_Hinky_Panda



Series: The Echo Series [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 16:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11107962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Hinky_Panda/pseuds/The_Hinky_Panda
Summary: Stakar frees a Kree battle slave but wants to know he can trust him. A woman needs safe transport from one side of the galaxy to another. He sees a way to make money and test his new charge. He isn't prepared for what happens next or the lengths that Yondu will go for another person.





	All at Once

All at Once  
Chapter One: Freedom

This is not one of Stakar Ogord’s finest moments. 

He certainly doesn’t want this particular story to be told in the dark corners of taverns on Contraxia or Knowhere. But this is what happens when you gamble big and lose: you find yourself locked in a Kree weapons cache on a military vessel and your crew still eight minutes away from pulling your sorry ass out of said cache. No matter how quickly and efficiently his crew moved, it doesn’t matter since he could already hear the guards on the other side of the door. 

They know he is in there. It is only a matter of time before they open the vault and catch him red-handedly making off with percussion canons and other nasty forms of violence. There’s a brief moment of complete silence following the suspicious sound of a body hitting the floor outside. Stakar ducks behind a stack of ammo cases as the door opens. There was a crackle of an energy wall that most likely had to be turned off by an officer, which meant the person who opened it wasn’t a Kree. 

Stakar peers around the edge of his cover to see a Centaurian scanning the room with narrowed red eyes. A battle slave, young, strong, and possibly an ally. There are patches, military bars on the shoulder of the Kree uniform he’s wearing. Even though Stakar doesn’t know exactly what the bars stand for, he knows enough that the Centaurian is adept at his job. 

Stakar already lost his first gamble of the day so why not try another one? Nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say. Slowly, he stands up and immediately the Centaurian’s eyes lock on him. They stare at each other in silence, sizing each other up. The Centaurian frowns when his sight lands on the Ravager flames on Stakar’s jacket. It’s very possible Stakar has misjudged the situation. A battle slave doesn’t get those bars by being rebellious and full of treason. But the question he finally asks takes Stakar by surprise. 

“How big’s yer crew?” 

“Big enough.”

He nods once, short and sweet. “Weapons?” 

“Yeah.” 

The frown deepens. “Slaves?” 

It isn’t the first time that Stakar has crossed paths with Kree battle slaves. Even though the Kree cull the rebellious ones quickly, the smart ones toe the line until an opportunity for freedom presents itself. “My crew doesn’t deal people or kids. There’s a code and we follow it.” 

The Centaurian’s frown lessens and he absently kicks at the fallen guard’s boots. “I bought ya some time. Big ticket items are in lock boxes. Yer crew helping with getting stuff out of here?” 

“They’ll be here in two minutes.” He’s hoping it’s down to two minutes. Martinex is never late so he doesn’t worry too much. 

The Centaurian leans casually against the wall and picks at his uneven teeth. “The weapons here are kid stuff compared to what we’re haulin’ in the cargo hold.” 

“Oh yeah. I suppose you’re just going to tell me what that is?” 

He shakes his head. “Nope. But I’ll show ya.” 

“What’s the price?” Stakar asks, already knowing what the answer is going to be. 

“I want off this boat.” 

Stakar acts like he’s mulling it over. “I lost a couple guys on the last job. One of them was a good man. Level headed, team player. If I can find someone like that, he’d have a job.” 

“Don’t know much about the level-headed part but I can play nice when needed.” 

Stakar doesn’t say anything and just nods his head. 

The Centaurian looks him over one more time before pushing off the wall and taking a couple quick steps up to the energy field lock on the cache. “Look around in there for an arrow. Small, thin, about yay long.” 

Stakar knows when a decision has been made and starts asking questions as he quickly riffles through boxes and cases. “How long you’ve been here?”

“On this ship or as a slave?” 

“A slave.” 

“Bout twenty years now. Started me as soon as I could hold a rifle and whistle.” 

“Whistle?” 

He grins. “Find that arrow and I’ll show ya.” 

It may sound like a threat to someone else, but Stakar knows better. His luck has just changed dramatically and it continues to change: he finds the arrow. It is a small, slight thing. Didn’t look like much of a weapon at all. He holds it up so the Centaurian can see it. “This it?” 

“Yeah. You need to activate it. Small switch on the side.” 

Stakar finds it, pushing it forward until it clicks. The light bands flash red and then go dark. He’s about to ask what else to do when the Centaurian starts to whistle. It is without melody, just a tone held steady and sure. The arrow lights up and drifts slowly up into the air over Stakar’s outstretched hand. 

He realizes this could be a huge mistake. There are many ways a battle slave can earn their freedom. Killing a ravager that is trying to make off with their weapons stash could be one way. However, as Stakar watches the drifting, twirling arrow that is dancing to the non-musical whistle, he realizes the Centaurian would have killed him by now. Battle slaves were trained to be efficient and loyal to the Kree Empire. Clearly, given how this one was playing around with the arrow and assisting a ravager, he is neither. 

A sharp whistle has the arrow dart through the air, going cleanly through the control panel and the hum of energy disappears immediately. Stakar gives the Centaurian, who is now holding the arrow in his hand, a small smile. 

“That was impressive.” 

He shrugs. “That’s just the warm up.” 

“You keep impressing me, I’ll make you a captain one day.” 

“Captain,” the smile grows wider. “I like the sounds of that.” 

“What’s your name?” 

The frown returns with a clenched jaw and Stakar realizes his mistake. When bargaining for something important, make sure everyone is on level ground. 

“Stakar Ogord.” 

The frown remains but the jaw slackens. “Yondu Udonta.” 

“So, how about that haul in the cargo bay?” 

Yondu nods. “Gotta make sure we don’t run into any unfriendly sorts.” He releases the arrow from his grip and continues to whistle.

Stakar watches as flashes of red bounce off the hallways and thumps sound up and down the corridors. He has gained a very useful crew member. But he also knows that slaves come with their own set of issues: trust, loyalty, and thinking of others instead of themselves. Yondu Udonta isn’t the first slave Stakar had freed, he just hopes the Centaurian turns out better than the others. 

When everything is quiet and the arrow is back in Yondu’s hand, he starts walking off towards the cargo bay. “You lose any M-Class ships when you lost those good men?” 

***  
The Planet of Caelea 

“Take that back!” 

“No! It’s the truth!” 

Vona clenches her fists and does as her mother taught her. Reach down to the center of the planet and pull strength from the living core. She feels the energy crackle against her palms, but before she can create anything with the force, her sister pushes her face-first into the stream. 

Cold water streams over her nose and mouth, sharp rocks cut into her cheek. She flails against the weight on top of her, not knowing if it is her sister or just her sister’s powers holding her down. Her fist connects with a fleshy ribcage and the pressure disappears, Vona’s head breaking the surface. Coughing and sputtering, Vona sits in the stream, trying to catch her breath. 

Oelia is sprawled out on the muddy bank, holding her side and glaring daggers. “How dare you strike me!” 

“How dare you drown me!” 

“Obviously, I was unsuccessful.” Oelia stands up and tries to wipe the mud off her shirt and pants. “Doesn’t matter. Mother is getting rid of you soon enough.” 

Vona stands up but still remains in the stream. The cold water numbs her feet but she can feel the planet beneath her better when standing in water. “Mother is not getting rid of me. Mother loves us both.” 

“Perhaps, but I have more value to her than you ever will. You’re only half goddess,” Oelia says, kicking a rock in Vona’s direction. “You will never be worth more than a full goddess.” 

Vona uses the energy that’s still running over her palms to gather some water and tosses it at Oelia. “There are many things that have value that aren’t powerful.” 

The water balls explode wetly when they hit their mark and Oelia lets out a startled yelp. She flings her hands up and Vona feels herself fly backwards. She lands further in the stream, the back of her head smacking against a flat rock. Oelia smirks from the shore. “I’m glad Mother is finally pitching the chipped china. You never belonged here anywhere.” 

Vona watches Oelia storm off the bank and back into the woods. She sits in the stream, catching her breath and giving her sister plenty of time to put distance between them. She rubs her hand over the back of her head and isn’t surprised when her fingers are a glistening red. She sits in the stream until she begins to shiver and only then stands. 

The walk back to the house is long, each step making Vona’s head hurt with each step. She can feel blood running down the nape of her neck. Mother isn’t going to happy at all with the state that she is in: wet, muddy clothes, cuts on her cheek, arms, and legs. Not to mention whatever gash she happens to have on the back of her head. When the porch of the house comes into view, Vona can see her mother already standing there, waiting for her. It doesn’t surprise her to see Oelia standing off to the side, but it also doesn’t hurry her pace. 

Oelia stands proud, tall and thin like a blade of iron. She is the classic image of a goddess, even in her mud splattered clothes and disheveled blonde hair. It is from their mother that Oelia receives her looks. Mintuna stares down at Vona from the top of the porch stairs with ice blue eyes, her long fingered hands clasped neatly in front of her pale silk dress. Vona looks nothing like her mother or sister. Her hair is a garish red, despite many attempts at dying it a different color when her mother refused to allow her to use her powers to change it that way. Her skin is speckled, particularly over her nose and cheekbones. She is a head shorter than Oelia, even more than that when standing next to her mother. Oelia calls her a thorn among the roses. Vona can’t disagree with the assessment. 

“I was going to ask what happened to you two,” Mintuna begins, her light voice dripping with disappointment, “but I can clearly see for myself. You’ve been tussling about like common boys. You are both grown women and your conduct needs to show your station. Tomorrow, Vona and I will be leaving. Oelia, you will be charge in my absence.” 

Oelia smirks down at Vona with condescension but refrains from saying anything. Vona holds her tongue. Her stomach drops at the announcement and she feels as if her head has been covered in icy water once more. This is precisely what Oelia had foretold. 

“Vona, I expect your behavior to be fitting of a young lady in your position. We are going to Telos to speak with their ambassador about continued protection for all of us.” Mintuna brushes away a wrinkle in her dress. “Ego is getting desperate and will soon begin to seek our people out for…assistance. And he will not ask for it, he’ll merely take it. Do you understand the importance of this journey?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good. Now both of you go, set yourselves right before dinner.” 

Vona steps slowly, reluctantly up the porch stairs where Oelia is waiting for her. No sooner has her foot rested on the top step, and their mother had disappeared into the house, then Oelia launches into her ridicule. 

“I told you.” 

“You said Mother was getting rid of me. I’m merely going as a representative.” Vona gives Oelia her own sharp grin. “I’ll be back here before you know it.” 

“I wouldn’t count on it, sweet sister,” Oelia frowned with mock sadness. “How do you think Mother is going to pay for our protection?”

“Pay?” 

“Protection doesn’t come for free and we certainly don’t have the units to pay for someone to risk their lives for us.” Oelia considers her thoughtful. “I know I called you chipped china but I hope for all our sakes, you’re not chipped in the reproductive department.” 

Horror and embarrassment stole any retort that Vona had ready to give. Surely their mother wouldn’t use her as some kind of living, breathing, breeding bargaining chip. She knew the importance of them staying hidden from Ego and any other person that wanted to use celestials for their own purpose but surely there were other ways of achieving that protection. 

Oelia stands in the doorway for a moment. “Who knew that being a whore would actually save us all? Just promise me something? Be a good one. Gods know, I don’t want to be next in line when you can’t deliver.” 

Vona allows the door to slam shut in her face. She takes a moment to steel herself for whatever awaits her on the other side of that door. Tomorrow will take care of itself, and she will take care of herself.


End file.
